Disturbia
by xXdreameaterXx
Summary: There were some things Clara believed to know for certain: she didn't belong in a mental hospital, the Doctor who was treating her was actually a Time Lord and his assistant Missy was the devil in disguise. But how was she going to convince anyone of that? And how should she handle this Doctor's blossoming affections? Asylum AU. Twelve/Clara, Twelve/Missy.Rated M for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Here I am, back with a new FanFiction, attempting something entirely different. Now, I might not update TOO soon since I've got another FF to finish first, but I'm giving my best. See it as a little teaser and enjoy ;)

**Disturbia**

**Chapter 1**

Clara knew she had been in a bad place ever since Danny died, but never in her life had she expected to end up in a mental institution. To be fair, Danny's death hardly had anything to do with it, but no matter how hard she tried to tell that to anyone willing to listen to her, they seemed to believe her a little less each time. Clara couldn't really blame them. They were in a mental hospital after all.

Her only hope was the new doctor everyone had been talking about for days. Every patient who had already had a session with him seemed to have fallen in love with him instantly, but a pretty face and a nice smile was not what Clara was hoping for. She knew this doctor might be her last chance of getting out of this place, if only she could make him believe her, make him believe she wasn't insane. Clara prayed to all the Gods worshipped across the universe that this man had some sense and saw she was a perfectly ordinary girl with no real trouble but her current grief. Tomorrow she would finally meet him. Tomorrow.

Until then, Clara decided to preoccupy herself with staring out of the barred window. It was something she had done endlessly since her arrival, of which she still had no memory of. But there was something about staring into the open space that soothed her, made her feel like she wasn't kept here against her will. The last thing she remembered was the graveyard, the cybermen, Danny saving the world by sacrificing himself, the Doctor and Missy, but after that – nothing. Cara had no idea what went down that day on the graveyard, or what happened to the Doctor, of whom she had heard nothing since. It had been a week, they had told her. A whole week in this place could really drive anyone mad, but since Clara was fairly certain of her mental health, she hardly had anything to fear. Except not getting out.

Where was the Doctor? Did he even know where she was? Her phone had been taken from her, so there was no way he could call her or trace her, but something inside her told Clara that the Doctor would have found her by now had he been capable of it. What had happened to him? There was this dreadful possibility that Missy might have captured, or worse, killed him. If only she could remember.

A knock on the door made her jump up, but she calmed down as soon as she saw the face of the friendly male nurse whose name she had forgotten again. He was a young lad, probably barely 20, but he was always sweet and appeared to be very good at his job. She wished she could remember his name, but the medication they gave her made her kind of drowsy.

"Hi Clara, remember me?" he asked with a smile as if he knew the meds made her forgetful. Or maybe he believed her to be a lunatic. Clara couldn't really tell.

"Sure, just the name won't come to mind right now," she replied with a shrug.

"It's Freddie," he reminded her gently.

"Oh, right, of course. Freddie," Clara smacked her forehead as if it was now obvious to her, but if she was perfectly honest, she thought she had heard his name for the first time just now.

"I'm bringing you your medication. And I have to make sure you take it. No protesting tonight, okay?" he eyed her suspiciously.

Unfortunately Clara had learned very soon that the hospital was very strict about the patients' medication. There was no spitting it out or flushing it down the toilet and until she had earned the nurse's trust to let her take her meds alone and unsupervised, Clara had no other choice but to take them.

Freddie handed her a plastic cup containing the medication and a glass of water to swallow them down, which Clara did, no matter how drowsy and stupid they made her feel. Freddie sat down on the chair next to her bed and invited Clara to follow his example.

"I need to ask you a few questions before I go," he explained.

"Alright, go ahead." This was standard. Every morning and every evening he would ask how she was feeling, what she had been up to all day, if she had hallucinations, suicidal thoughts, and so on. Clara had already learned how he would like her to answer him.

"How are you feeling tonight?" Freddie started and Clara could see the compassion in his eyes. She was sure he was like this with every single patient in this institution. He loved his job. He was born for it.

"Good, actually. A bit tired from the meds, but otherwise fine."

"And what have you been doing all day?"

"I had breakfast, browsed through the library, lunch, playing cards with some elderly ladies. . ."

"Oh, you have to be careful around them. They do know how to make a poker face. I lost a lot of money to them the last two years," he interrupted her with a grin.

"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep my eyes open."

"Okay, I see you've adjusted quite nicely. Tomorrow you will have your first therapy session with our new Doctor. He's great and he really knows what he's doing. You can trust him with any of your thoughts, Clara, don't be shy. The sooner he understands you, the sooner you might be out of here. Did any of your memories come back, by any chance?"

"No," Clara shook her head, sadly, "I'm afraid not. I remember a graveyard, but after that, nothing."

"They found you on a graveyard, unconscious. You were talking about your boyfriend and alien creatures and some evil. . . Master?"

"Sounds about right," Clara said although she didn't recall being found by anyone. The first thing she remembered after that was waking up chained to a bed.

"They called your family and they had you brought here, to us. Your father and grandmother are very worried about you and they want you to get better very soon."

"When can I see them?" Clara asked immediately.

"When the Doctor says you can. You will need to speak with him first, to determine what might be the root of your problems and how we can best solve them."

"Okay, what's this doctor's name?" she asked, only now realizing that neither Freddie nor any other patient had actually mentioned a name.

"Oh, I honestly don't know. He is usually just referred to as the Doctor. Bit eccentric, that one, but great at his job as far as I can tell," he assured her and patted her hand before standing up from his chair.

Clara's heart appeared to have skipped a beat. The Doctor. Could it really be him? Did he come to save her after all?

"When you need anything, ring the bell," Freddie told her before closing the door behind him, but Clara couldn't really hear him.

A mysterious and eccentric new doctor who preferred to be called by his title only. That could only mean one thing, right? The Doctor had found her and he was going to save her. For the first time ever since she had come here, Clara let herself fall onto her bed with a smile on her face, knowing that tonight would be her last night in this hell hole.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the first reviews and also thanks to those who favourited and follow this FanFic. Yes, yes, I said I wouldn't update too soon but what do you do when a FanFic whispers to you: _write me, write me. . ._ Write, right?_

**Chapter 2**

Clara was lead into the Doctor's room that was being used for the consultation with patients well enough to move about the hospital. She glanced around and immediately knew why everyone felt so comfortable in here. While the rest of the mental institution was rather stark and sterile, his office seemed to be the exact opposite. Almost every inch of the wall was covered in book shelves and Clara was immediately reminded of the new TARDIS interior, only the round things were missing. A soft carpet lead over the walnut floor to a huge desk that was covered in paperwork and a modern desktop PC. To her left she found a big, brown leather couch and an armchair, not much unlike that from the TARDIS, next to it. That was probably where the talking therapy took place. Clara also found the room crowded with plants, which gave it a rather cosy and homely atmosphere. Not long now and she would finally see her Doctor again.

"The Doctor will be with you in a few minutes," a strangely familiar female singsang voice said right behind her, "Can I offer you anything in the meantime? A glass of water, perhaps?"

At first Clara didn't even dare to turn around. She was too afraid of what she wound find, and she knew _who_ she was going to find standing right behind her.

But the woman immediately stepped in front of her, holding a glass of water in her face with an absolutely evil grin on her mouth.

"You!" Clara uttered, taking a step back, "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Me?" she asked in the sweetest voice, "I work here."

"You evil bitch, what have you done to the Doctor?" Clara heard herself scream at her. She hadn't intended to shout, but she was angry and she was frightened.

It took Freddie only seconds to find his way to the consultation room and he burst through the door, apparently very concerned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, no," the woman said, her Scottish accent showing now. She waved the hand that wasn't holding the glass of water, "Everything under control here, dear."

"Are you sure?" he pressed, his eyes wandering from her to Clara and back. Why wasn't he as confused as her? Did he _know_ her?

"Yes, yes, very sure. Clara and I haven't been introduced yet, I think she might be a bit confused as to who I am," she explained, again with that smug smile on her evil face.

"I know who you are," Clara hissed, "You're Missy. The Master."

At this point, Missy broke into laughter.

"Well, I wouldn't really call myself a master of anything. I'm just an assistant, _the Doctor's assistant_, to be perfectly clear."

It was too much for Clara to process. So if the Doctor was pretending to working here, in this institution, why would he pass Missy off as his assistant? It suddenly struck Clara that something was going really wrong around here.

"What have you done to the Doctor?" Clara yelled at her.

"Okay, stop shouting, Clara, please. Or I'll have to restrain you," Freddie intervened. Clara glanced at him and saw his pleading gaze, but she didn't care.

She turned back to Missy and smacked the glass of water out of her hand. It came down to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces.

"WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE. TO. HIM?" she screamed again, grabbing Missy's arms with both her hands, shaking her. Freddie caught Clara before she could react further. She couldn't tell what exactly he was doing to her, but Clara found herself restrained to the chair only moments later.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll go find the Doctor," Missy pretended to straighten her hair and clothes after the row and vanished through the door, leaving Clara and Freddie alone in the office.

"What was that all about?" he asked her, that concerned look back on his face.

"She's the one! She is the evil Master," Clara screamed. She would've pointed at the door through which Missy had just escaped, but the handcuffs kept her from doing so.

"No, she's the Doctor's assistant, like she told you. A bit bonkers, that one, but she's not evil," he tried to reassure her, but it wasn't working.

"I don't know what she's up to, but I'm in here _because of her_. I know it," Clara couldn't really tell when exactly she had jumped to this conclusion but if Missy was here, in this mental hospital, that it had to be her fault. She struggled with her chained arms.

"I'm going to have to leave the restraints on for now," Freddie told her, "Until the Doctor says it's okay to take them off. We can't have you attack the staff, surely you understand that?"

"Why do you keep saying that? She's not with the staff, _she is the Master_. Why won't anyone believe me?" Clara yelled at him.

Freddie raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes, I know. Mental patient," she sighed in resignation, "When will the Doctor get here?"

At precisely this moment the wooden door swung open and the Doctor, _her Doctor _stepped into the room. Clara was so relieved that she let out a sigh and almost forget everything around her. Everything was going to be fine, she told herself. Now that the Doctor was here, nothing would be able to harm her. Not even Missy.

"Hello Miss Oswald, Freddie," he looked up from the clipboard and nodded into the direction of the nurse. He smiled in return.

"I'm going to leave the two of you alone," Freddie said.

"Leave the keys for the handcuffs, please. Miss Oswald doesn't look very comfortable."

The nurse handed him the keys and closed the door behind him, leaving Clara alone with her Doctor at last. Everything would be just fine. She would be out of here very, very soon.

"Doctor, you can't believe how relieved I am to see you," she told him as the Doctor was working on her handcuffs and they sprang open moments later.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see you sooner, but as you have probably heard, I only just got here a few days ago. And your case is not what we would call a severe one," he explained as he seated himself on the other side of the desk, eyes back on the clipboard with Clara's information.

For a moment Clara was taken aback by the Doctor's cold demeanour. Freddie was gone now. He could stop pretending.

"Doctor?" she asked carefully.

His grey eyes looked up from the paperwork and met hers and that was when the horrible realisation struck her like lightning. The Doctor's eyes stared at her, void of any emotion or meaning. Clara felt her heart sink as she understood that the man sitting in front of her didn't seem to know her at all.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but work kind of got in the way. But here's a new chap for you :)_

**Chapter 3**

"Now, Miss Oswald," the Doctor said, finally putting away her file and looking directly at her, "Please, tell me why you think you're here."

Clara was too stunned to answer his question. She felt like a hole had just opened below her feet, swallowed her and she was falling and falling and falling down into the depths of hell.

"Don't you know who I am?" she blurted out, "Doctor, please, say you know who I am."

He looked back down to read her file.

"You're Miss Clara Oswald, born in 1986, 23rd of November."

Clara shook her head. "No. It's wrong. It's all wrong," she uttered.

"What is wrong? Your name? Your date of birth?"

She leaned forward to look him straight into the eyes. "No, you're all wrong, Doctor. You don't even know who _you_ are!"

If the Doctor was confused by her accusation, he was too much of a professional to show it. But Clara wasn't going to stop there. She needed him to know who he really was.

"Doctor, you're an alien. You are a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, you travel through time and space in your TARDIS _with me_, your best friend," she told him frantically, the words flying out of her mouth.

"Miss Oswald," he sighed, "Please, answer my question."

His calm attitude infuriated her. She was not supposed to be here at all and she wouldn't be without Missy.

"I'm here because of Missy. I don't know what she did to you but apparently she has altered your memory or put a spell on you or something but I am not supposed to be here," Clara pleaded, "Please, it's all her fault. She is the Master. She's dangerous!"

She was aware of how crazy she sounded to someone who had never been in contact with aliens at all but she didn't care. If anything about it sounded even vaguely familiar to the Doctor, she still stood a chance to get through to him.

He gave her a slight, warm smile. "Miss Oswald, I can assure you that my assistant is not evil and she will not harm you in any way, but if it's important to you, I can arrange that you won't have to see her for now. I just want to help you."

The Doctor scribbled a note on the corner of her file and looked back at her.

"Now, please, just assume I am really an alien and I have no recollection at all, and tell me what you think happened just before you got here."

Clara wasn't quite satisfied with his reaction, he didn't believe a word she said. And why should he? If Missy had altered his memory, he was a psychiatrist and she was a mental patient. Yet she still told him all about their last adventure. Clara told him about the day her boyfriend Danny Pink died, how she had betrayed him, how he had promised to take her to hell or wherever Danny was, how they had encountered Missy for the first time, about the Cybermen army that had risen from the graves and threatened to destroy the world until Danny, now a Cyberman as well, had saved them all.

"I don't know what happened after that," she admitted, "I must have blacked out, I suppose. Next thing I know is that I woke up here."

"That sounds like quite an adventure," he smiled at her. It wasn't mocking, it wasn't belittling her, but kind, as if the Doctor understood, but he didn't. Clara feared he was merely admiring her imagination, "And you're saying my assistant was responsible for the Cyberspace army?"

"Cyber_men_ army," Clara corrected him, "and she's not your assistant. She's the Master."

"I see. I guess I should be careful around her, then?" he asked, that smile still on his face.

"Yes, that would be a good idea," Clara sighed. She was going to rot in here for the rest of her life. Suddenly a question came to her mind, "When can I see my family?"

"Soon, I think. But we will have to hold a few more sessions. I'm afraid we're running out of time for today, but I would like to hear more of your story tomorrow, if that is alright with you?"

Clara merely nodded. Of course he needed to hear more so as to determine the extent of her mental illness.

"Freddie will accompany you to lunch," the Doctor said and pressed a little button that was embedded in his desk. Clara imagined a bell ringing somewhere in the staff room and whenever a session had ended or there was an emergency the Doctor needed help with, he would press it.

The nurse entered the room only a minute later, that expression of worry still on his face when he spotted Clara.

"Miss Oswald will receive no medication until our next session," the Doctor told him and turned back to Clara to offer her his hand to shake, "It was nice meeting you and I'm sure that if we collaborate we will find a way to help you."

"I don't need help. I just need my Doctor back," she whispered, crestfallen.

Clara let go of the Doctor's hand and turned to Freddie, who took her arm and led her out of the room, although she barely noticed the corridors they walked along.

**OOO**

The Doctor had another look at Clara's file after she had left his office. The young woman was suffering from a delusional disorder, that much was obvious. He would have to question members of her family as well to determine what might have caused it or for how long it had been going on. He would make a call later this afternoon. Also he would have to run a few tests to find out if her problem might be genetic, but for now he would concentrate on other factors that could have had an impact on the young woman's psyche, like the death of her boyfriend. But the most important thing was to hear her out, get the full story, maybe finding holes in the narrative so he could coerce her into admitting it wasn't true. If he was able to do that, he was one step closer to helping her.

The sound of heeled footsteps approaching interrupted his train of thoughts and he looked up to find Missy entering his office. The Doctor smiled at the thought that Clara thought her to be an evil Master of some sort. True, she could be feisty – in the bedroom – and only in the best of ways.

"Any idea why the little loony attacked me?" Missy asked as she closed the office door behind her. She walked up to him and sat down on top of his desk.

"The poor girl is suffering from delusions," the Doctor told, "She thinks we're both aliens and you're an evil Master. She also said you created an army out of the dead to destroy the world. Now, you don't happen to have plans like these?"

Missy giggled, "Oh, I wish. Imagine the things you could do with. . . wait, dead people? Nah, seems kind of useless, doesn't it?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Clara also said that her dead boyfriend was among them and that in the end he saved the world."

Missy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it's _Clara_ now," she eyed him suspiciously, "You find her intriguing, don't you, Doctor?"

The Doctor only now realized that he had referred to his patient by her first name, but brushed it aside. Sure, she was a sweet, young woman, and he was determined to help her get through this. But no more.

He grabbed Missy by the hips and pulled her closer, staring into her bright, blue eyes.

"I find her story intriguing. It takes a great imagination to create a story like this. But_ you_ are a lot more intriguing."  
>Missy seemed pleased with his answer and bent down to kiss him. The Doctor felt a sharp pain as she bit his lips. Oh, she always did that.<p>

"Don't ever forgot," she whispered, pressing their foreheads together, "You're mine, now and forever."

The Doctor got up from his chair and pushed Missy further unto his desk, kissing her relentlessly. He parted her legs with his hands to make room for him in between, brushing over the lace of her hold-up stockings with his fingers. _Naughty girl_, he thought, but that was what he loved about her.

"Hurry up," she whispered in his ear, "You have ten minutes before your next patient gets here."

The Doctor cupped her face in both of his hands and admired his work in smudging her lipstick. "You need to be quiet this time," he reminded her.

"I can't promise you that," she replied with a cheeky grin while she undid his belt and reached into his trousers. A low moan escaped his lips as her hand was working him. He was already hard when she let go and he pushed her skirt up only to realize she had apparently skipped underwear today.

"You planned this," he whispered as he finally thrust into her, covering her mouth with his hand to muffle her moans. She was always so goddamn loud.

_I always plan it,_ he thought he heard her say, but it was probably only the way her eyes glistened maliciously.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you so, so, so, soooo much for the reviews :) I'm really glad you seem to like the story. As for you, IceFire9, if I answered that question now, the story would be over ;)_

**Chapter 4**

The Doctor buttoned up his shirt as he watched Missy trying to straighten up her hair, a task doomed to fail as he had messed it up quite thoroughly during their 'lunch break'. He thought she looked more beautiful with her hair down, but he couldn't tell her that. Their relationship wasn't exactly romantic and the Doctor didn't really know what drew him to her, except that she just felt close to him. It was like out of all the human beings in this world, Missy was the one that felt most like home. The Doctor knew it sounded stupid, but that was the way he felt. Missy and him, two sides of the same coin.

"Could you please tell my next appointment to wait five minutes?" he asked her as she was about to leave the room, "I have a phone call to make."

"Whatever you want, my darling," Missy said in the sweetest of voices and gave him a smile before she closed the door behind her.

The Doctor reached for the telephone and dialled the number he found on Clara's file. It rang several times before a man answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Doctor John Smith from Nightingale Hospital in London. Am I speaking to the father of Clara Oswald?"

"Is everything alright with Clara? Is she okay?" he immediately asked and the Doctor was sure he was indeed talking to her father.

"She's doing well under the circumstances. I am the Doctor who is treating her here and I would like for you and maybe another family member to come down to London."

There was a short silence on the other end of the line.

"Her grandmother and I could come in tomorrow. If we depart early we could be there by noon," Dave Oswald told him, "Can we see Clara?"

The Doctor hesitated, but as his eyes trailed over the file and spotted Clara's date of birth, he made up his mind. "Normally we don't allow visitors as long as we haven't determined what could be going on in a patient's head. But seeing that tomorrow's her birthday, I think we can make a little exception here."

"And I assume that is why you want to speak to us? To _determine what's going on in her head_?" her father asked.

"Yes, that would be extremely helpful."

"Then we will be there."

**OOO**

Clara had a hard time falling asleep that night, she kept tossing and turning in her sheets and finally she gave up. Clara stepped out of bed and opened the blinds to the night sky. She had always loved it most during winter, especially when it was cold outside. The stars seemed so much brighter and right now she would prefer visiting each and every one of those to sitting here.

Maybe it would be easier if she had at least one familiar object here with her. A book maybe, or even a piece of her own clothing. But everything she had had on her the day she came here had been stripped from her. She was wearing a jumpsuit of a very faded light blue that belonged to the hospital and she would have to wait for her own clothes until her family could send her some. Clara understood why she couldn't seem them right now, but that didn't keep her from wishing that she could.

As for the Doctor, Clara was now more convinced than ever that Missy had done something to him. She simply must have. Hadn't the Doctor told her that the Master had always been excellent at mind tricks? He had once hypnotized a whole nation. Surely a hospital was nothing compared to that?

Clara swore to herself that she would hold on to the truth, no matter what, no matter how crazy they'd think she was. It was her only hope of getting her Doctor back.

She glanced sideways at the clock that told her it was a few minutes past midnight. _Happy Birthday to me_, she thought to herself and went back to bed.

**OOO**

Clara felt better without the medication that was making her so drowsy all the time. She hadn't really been able to sleep without it, but she didn't care. Despite being tired she felt like a functioning human being for a change.

Freddie surprised her with a cupcake that had a tiny candle stuck into it the next morning. She smiled as he told her to blow out the candle and wish for something. Clara didn't even have to think about her wish.

"Do you do that for every patient?" she asked as he escorted her to the Doctor's office.

"I try to. Birthdays aren't really celebrated around here and I think that's sad. Also, I think the Doctor has a little surprise for you as well, later this afternoon. But don't ask him about it. I'm not the one who told you!"

"A surprise?" Clara asked, now intrigued. He was her Doctor and she was a patient he had only seen once. What could he possible have to surprise her, unless he had remembered?But somehow Clara doubted he had.

He was already waiting for her in his office when she stepped inside and offered her a seat on the comfortable looking couch this time. The Doctor himself sat down on the armchair and placed a notebook on his lap.

"How are you feeling today, Clara?" he asked her gently and with a warm smile.

"Better without the meds," she said, fearing they would make her take them again when she admitted that she was having trouble sleeping.

"That's good to hear. It was just standard medication prescribed to almost everyone when they first come here. It's to calm the nerves," the Doctor explained, "I don't think you're going to need them any further."

They exchanged a few trivialities, before the Doctor came back to the subject he seemed most eager to hear about.

"Clara, would you like to tell me how you met the Doctor? Just imagine again that I am really the Doctor who has forgotten everything, okay?" he asked after a while.

"Sure, why not? Well, I was staying with the Maitland family at that time, watching the children after their mother's death. On the day I met you the internet was acting up and I had no idea how to fix it, so I called a number given to me by a woman in the shop. It was supposed to be a helpline, but I ended up phoning your TARDIS instead."

"The TARDIS is the spaceship, right?" the Doctor inquired.

"Spaceship and time machine, disguised as a blue police box, yes."

"Why does it have such a peculiar name and shape?"

"Oh, TARDIS is just short for _Time And Relative Dimension In Space_, and it has a chameleon circuit that is supposed to change the TARDIS' appearance. It could become anything, depending on what would blend in best, but the circuit broke when you travelled to the 60s. You liked it, so you never fixed it."

Clara went on telling the Doctor everything about their adventures. She told him about the little girl they rescued on the Rings of Akhaten, about the Ice Warrior from Mars on the Russian submarine during the Cold War, about the day the went to a haunted house to chase a ghost, that just turned out to be a woman trapped in a pocket universe, but before she could tell him about the day they had been separated in his own TARDIS, Clara's time was almost up. Clara had started to watch the Doctor while she told her stories and his eyes lit up a little more with every adventure, as if he wished he truly was that person.

"I'm afraid my next appointment will be here very soon, so we will have to continue this tomorrow. But I have one more question," he said.

"Yes?"  
>"That Doctor. Does he have a name?"<p>

Clara smiled. "That will come up in the next adventure."

**OOO**

The Doctor hated to admit it, but he was mesmerized by Clara's stories. The young woman truly had a wonderful imagination. He could barely remember half the words she had used for planets and extraterrestrial species, but she had spoken them with such certainty that he had almost forgotten he was listening to a patient. The Doctor thought that if she hadn't been so convinced that every detail about it was true, he would find her name on a list of best selling authors and not on a list of mental patients.

"The Oswald family is here," Missy announced, sticking her head into his office.

"Oh, right, please, tell them to come in."

Clara's father and grandmother entered his office a few moments later. The Doctor greeted them and invited both of them to sit down on the couch that only half an hour ago had been occupied by Clara.

"Would you like some tea, or coffee?" Missy had popped back into the Doctor's office to ask, but the Oswalds declined.

"How is Clara?" her grandmother immediately asked as the Doctor sat down.

"Clara is fine. I've just spoken to her half an hour ago," he told them.

"They why must she be in here?" her father inquired, "I know she lost her boyfriend, but I'm sure she will find a way to handle it. There's no need to keep her locked in here."  
>"I wish it was as easy as that," the Doctor sighed, "I think grief is just a part of Clara's problems. When she came here she was talking about an army of the dead that wanted to destroy the earth. And a <em>Doctor<em>."

"Oh, the Doctor," a smile spread across the small lips of Clara's grandmother.

"So, you've heard of him before?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. He was her boyfriend. A rather eccentric young man, but friendly _and handsome_. He came by last Christmas."

"Naked," Clara's father added, rolling his eyes. "I was glad when she met Danny. The Doctor just seemed. . . not quite of this world."

The Doctor was confused for a moment. He had been entirely convinced that Clara had only made this man up, so the fact that the Oswald family knew about him and had actually met him, baffled the Doctor. He questioned the two of them further, until he had gathered the following information: Clara's Doctor was a nice, handsome, young man, who had shown up naked at the family Christmas dinner the previous year. Clara had excused his nudity by saying that he was from Sweden and run off with him. Apparently there had also been a fight, with a later reconciliation, before Clara had left the Christmas dinner for good, only to contact her family again a week later from Glasgow.

"Do you happen to have a picture of him?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm sure I have seen a few in her flat," her father recalled.

"Oh, yes, the one with the Victorian clothing," her grandmother smiled, "I think he was into historical re-enactment. But why do you need a picture?"

"Well, Clara told me that he is a time traveller and she is convinced that I am this Doctor. But after your description, I clearly can't be. And I think a picture might help her admit that."

"But why would she say such a thing?" her father asked.

The Doctor began telling them about his diagnosis and saw the confused looks on their faces. For the families it was always hard to believe that one of their loved ones was having psychological problems. Some tried to convince him that everything was completely normal, or even denied everything. But not the Oswalds. Both listened to him quietly, nodding occasionally, as if they could finally make some sense of strange behaviour they had already witnessed.

"The diagnosis is not yet final and when you see her, I would like that you didn't tell Clara about it. I need to hear her full story first, run a few tests. It might take a while, but we will get to the bottom of this, I promise. And I will do everything in my power to help her."

"Thank you," Clara's grandmother said with a weary smile, "Can we see her now?"

"Yes, of course. I'll lead you to her," he said.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you so much for the reviews! Sorry the new chapter took so long. My work schedule was a bit crazy the last few weeks, but December looks a tiny bit better so I hope to update more frequently. As for the book mentioned in this chapter called "Love & Space Dust" - read it! It's by David Jones and you can find extracts of it online on his Tumblr or buy it as book or e-book on Amazon, but you should totally check it out. It reads like a Twelve/Clara fanfiction and it's amazing!_

**Chapter 5**

"What are you doing here?" a wide smile appeared on Clara's face as she jumped up from her bed to greet her family. She hugged her Gran first, tightly, as if that was the only way to make sure they were really here.

"Surprise visit for your birthday," her father said when it was his turn to embrace his daughter.

"But they all said I couldn't have visitors just yet. Ah, well, nevermind that, I'm so glad you're both here," Clara said as she hugged them both again.

When Freddie had told her the Doctor had a little surprise planned for her, she had never in her life expected this. But she was glad, so glad to see them. After losing her Doctor, her Gran and her father were the only two people she had left.

"We've brought you a little something," her father said and left the room, coming back with a big suitcase, "We though you'd want some of your clothes and books."

"Thank you. I could really use a change of clothes," she said and pointed to the worn out jumpsuit. Maybe in her own clothes she would stop feeling so miserable.

"The reason we're here is, well. . . actually, your psychiatrist wanted to talk to us," her father explained as he sat down on Clara's bed and indicated she should join him.

"So, what did he say?" she asked.

"He said that you think he is _your Doctor_, you know, your boyfriend from last Christmas," her grandmother said reluctantly.

"That's because he is," Clara replied sternly, "And the Doctor was never _really_ my boyfriend. I'm sorry that I lied to you, but you kept asking me if I had was seeing someone and I just. . . you know, you wouldn't have believed the truth anyway."

"And what truth would that be?"

"He is a time traveller," Clara stated and immediately spotted the disbelief on her family's faces, "And the reason I never mentioned him after Christmas again or showed you another picture was that. . ."

"You two had broken up," her grandmother intervened.

"No, we hadn't. On Christmas the Doctor regenerated, he changed his face. That's why I couldn't tell you. And Danny knew about him, he knew the whole story," Clara raised her voice, speaking faster now that she was agitated.

The hope that her family might understand slowly faded away and Clara couldn't really blame them. She wouldn't have believed herself either, and it was making her angry.

"Then why doesn't he know you?" her dad finally asked, his voice very calm.

"The Doctor has this enemy, the Master. She has something to do with it, I don't know what, but I am absolutely sure that it was her fault."

Her father raised his hand and placed it gently on Clara's shoulder. "Honey, we are worried about you. I realize that Danny's death has affected you more than you want to admit, but, Clara, you have to admit that this whole story just sounds crazy."

"I know it does. But that doesn't make it any less true."

There was a knock on the door and Freddie's head popped up.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid your time is up," he said with an apologetic smile.

"We'll come see you again once your Doctor says it's okay," her grandmother promised her and opened her arms again.

Clara rose from her bed and embraced her grandmother again, knowing it might be a while until she would see her again.

When they had said their goodbyes and Freddie had lead them out, Clara walked over to her suitcase and threw it unto the bed. She inspected the contents and was glad to find her favourite clothes inside, neatly folded, next to several books. She looked through them and found several she had already read but would gladly read again. Dorian Gray, The Scarlet Letter, Educating Rita, ... Then Clara suddenly found one she hadn't read before. It was a collection of poems titled "Love & Space Dust" and she remembered picking it up from one of the shelves in the TARDIS.

"_Hey, what's this about?" Clara had held up the book, waving it in the Doctor's direction._

"_No clue," he had replied and swiftly gone back to fiddling with the TARDIS console, "Read it and tell me."_

"_Okay, I will."_

But she had never gotten around to it. Danny had died only two days later, setting in action the string of events that had brought her here. Clara decided she would read it now and tell the Doctor what it was about.

**OOO**

When Clara woke up the next morning, she didn't feel so very well rested. She had read "Love and Space Dust" about a dozen times or more, but as she was lying in bed and her thoughts about the poems and her memories of her family's visit mingled in her head, an idea struck her. She hadn't shown her family any pictures of the Doctor's new face, but certainly of the old one, doing _historical re-enactment_. But the truth was, she hadn't even been aware of those picture, had the Maitland kids not stumbled across them doing research for a school project. Pictures that were evidently taken during the Victorian era, the 70s and the 80s. If she could somehow get her hands on these pictures, they would be proof that the Doctor was a time traveller. And if she got her Doctor to believe in time travel, making him believe in aliens would be a little easier.

Clara got dressed in a hurry and waited for Freddie to pick her up for breakfast. She didn't have to wait that long, until he cheerfully entered her room.

"Good morning, Clara. Slept well?" he asked, appearing to be in his usual good mood.

"Yes, very well," Clara lied.

"Good, time for breakfast," he said and held the door open for her.

Clara grabbed the handle and pulled it close again, smiling at Freddie.

"Erm, is everything alright with you?" he asked carefully.

"Freddie, you like me, don't you? Uhm, I mean, as a patient."

"Yeeeaaah," he uttered reluctantly, his suspicion audible in his voice, "Why?"

"I need to ask you a favour," Clara said earnestly, "A big one, probably. I need to call someone."

Freddie laughed. "You will be able to call as many people as you like once the Doctor says that it's okay."

"Yeah, I know, but I need to call someone _right now_. It's urgent," Clara explained, deliberately giving Freddie her best puppy dog stare, hoping to melt his heart.

"I can't, Clara, I could lose my job. See, I'd be willing to sneak about any food into your room as you'd like, but this is a really big deal. Patients are not allowed to have contact to anyone that could compromise the treatment and as long as no official diagnosis is made, we cannot take any risks. We have these rules for a reason."

"What if I could prove that I am not mad?" Clara asked bluntly, "What if I knew someone that was in possession of photos that could prove I am telling the truth?"

Freddie stared at her for a while, pondering what she had said, until he finally shook his head. "I'm sorry, Clara. You can ask the Doctor later, but I cannot help you. Not with this."


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you all soooo much for your reviews! I am sorry I didn't update sooner but I had a Christmas fanfic to write and Christmas waits for no one ;) Now that that is out of the way, here comes Disturbia again! Enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

The Doctor switched on the desk light and took another look at Clara's file. It maddened him that he was no closer to showing her that her story was but a construct of lies. Every time he thought he had found the point where she would crack and admit it didn't make sense, Clara found a loophole. The Doctor had shown her the pictures of the young Doctor, the ones that her family had sent him. She had smiled and told him that Time Lords could regenerate when their bodies had grown too old or too badly injured and last Christmas the Doctor had done so after being trapped on a planet for 900 years.

The Doctor started ruffling his hair. He was tired and he should go to bed, only Clara kept him awake. He wanted so much to help her. A bright, young girl with her whole life ahead of her shouldn't rot in a mental institution. Maybe it was now time to change the topic of their conversations to a real subject: Danny. They had spent four weeks talking about Time Lords and aliens and blue boxes and the Doctor had enjoyed all of it.  
>He had always enjoyed his work, helping people, but this was different. He loved Clara's stories, he loved the fact that she thought him to be the man who had done all those incredible things, saved all those planets, but he knew that he wasn't. And he had to make Clara see reason somehow.<p>

"Honey, why are you still up?" Missy appeared in his office in the flat they shared and stopped at his desk.

"I am thinking about Miss Oswald," he told her, not even looking up from the records, "I just can't get through to her. She is so deep in her own story that no matter what I ask, she always seems to know the answer to it. If I didn't know better, I'd say her stories are real."

Missy sighed heavily and placed her hands on his shoulders, massaging them.

"You work too hard, darling. You should give it a rest, it's Christmas after all."

"You're probably right. I'm tired."

She looked over his shoulder and her eyes scanned the records of his conversations with Clara. "It's been over a month. Maybe you should. . . write her off."

"It's too early for that. She might still recover," he defended her.

"That girl is delusional. Wouldn't it be better if she lived in a place that kept her safe? Where she could put her imagination to some use. Maybe write a book or something."

"Missy, you know that once you go to a place like that, your chances of ever getting out are very slim. I just don't know what to do with her. We've tried meds and they're not working. She is sticking to the story."

"That's exactly my point. Clara Oswald is beyond help. You need to see that and take proper action. The hospital is no place for her. I can't do my job when she's around because I am not allowed to meet her in case she freaks out again. Honey, you should find her a proper home. A place where she is surrounded by people like herself. She would be so much better off."

The Doctor exhaled. "Maybe you're right. I'll think about it, but there are still some things I have to try first. If I condemn that girl to a life in an assisted living facility for the mentally unstable I better be absolutely sure there is nothing else I could do for her."

**OOO**

Clara was still sitting in the common room, playing a game of cards with three elderly ladies. Since it was Christmas, they had allowed the patients to stay up a little longer and enjoy themselves. One of her fellow players was a woman of German origin and she had taught them a rather complicated German game called Double Head. It had taken Clara over a week to learn the rules but now she was beginning to enjoy it. She was about to win this round and internally scolded herself for not bidding higher when suddenly Freddie approached her from behind.

"Hello ladies," Freddie bowed dramatically, "Having a nice time?"

They all nodded and Freddie took a look at the cards still in Clara's hand. She could see him smile slightly out of the corner of her eye but doubted the other women could. Not that it really mattered. She still held three of the highest cards.

"Last round," Freddie announced, "Then I'm afraid I have to send you off to bed."

He bent down to whisper something in Clara's ear, pointing at the cards while doing so, making it appear as if he was giving her a hint. Instead, he whispered: "I have a Christmas present for you once you go to your room. Don't go to sleep immediately, I will come see you in half an hour."

Clara had indeed won the round and when they had added the points of all the games of the night, Clara had scored the second place, which wasn't at all bad for a beginner. Clara smiled happily when she went to her room to wait for Freddie, falling down unto her bed and grabbing the book her family had sent her for Christmas. They hadn't been allowed to visit her again, but the Doctor had permitted Christmas gifts and that had cheered Clara up a great deal.

As for the therapy sessions, Clara believed she was making progress. They had hardly talked about anything else except their adventures in time and space and she could see the Doctor was fascinated. One day she would get through to him and undo whatever Missy had done to make him forget.

Freddie knocked on her door only 20 minutes later.

"Hey Clara," he looked around carefully before entering her room and closing the door behind him.

"So, Christmas present?" Clara raised an eyebrow as she saw him standing in front of her, empty handed.

"You must promise not to tell anyone, okay? I will get into real trouble if you do."

"Okay, I promise," she said, still uncertain about where this was headed.

Freddie reached into his pocket and pulled out his private cell phone, holding it out to Clara.

"You said you wanted to call someone and that it could prove you aren't supposed to be here. Call them."

Clara's eyes widened. "But you said you could lose your job."

"A job I took because I wanted to help people. Clara, I've been watching you these past few weeks and I don't think I've ever seen a more ordinary girl inside these walls. If you're right and you are here by mistake, I would be neglecting my job if I didn't let you do what you think you must," Freddie said earnestly.

"Does that mean you believe me?" she asked.

"Let's just say that I don't think aliens are impossible. Just make your call. I'll be waiting outside."

He handed Clara the cell phone and left her alone to call the Maitland family.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you guys sooooo much for the reviews! I wish you all a happy new year!_

**Chapter 7**

Clara dialled the number frantically, knowing that surely Artie was still up and sitting in front of his computer. It took him a few seconds, but after the third ring he finally picked up the phone.

"Yes?"

"Artie? Artie, is that you?" Clara asked immediately.

"Yes, who's this?"

"It's Clara."

"Oh," was all he said at first, and continued the he continued reluctantly. "Hey Clara."

She took a deep breath.

"Artie, I need a big favour and I think you're the only one who can help me."

"Aren't you supposed to be. . . uhm. . . in a mental hospital?" Artie asked carefully.

"I am, but it's all a mistake and you can help me. Remember the pictures you and Angie found when you did that school project? The pictures of the Doctor and me?"

There was a silence on the other end of the line that lasted longer than Clara would have liked.

"Artie?"

"Clara, I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, "I think I should go."

"No, Artie, wait. The Doctor took you and Angie to the moon. Remember that?" A bad feeling was starting to creep into Clara's mind.

"Please, tell me you remember it," she begged.

"Clara, I think I should hang up now. Please, don't call again."

"Artie, wait!" Clara said, but the line already went dead.

Clara felt as if her world had just been thrown out of orbit. Her last hope had faded away. Missy had gotten to Artie and Angie as well and altered their memory, making them forget about the Doctor and the trip that had started out so nice but ended with Cybermen attacking them. They had forgotten about the proposal she had gotten from the Emperor. She should've accepted it back then. If she had, she wouldn't be in this mess right now.

A proposal from the Emperor. Clara almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. No wonder no one believed her. Who would believe her stories about travelling time and space in a blue police box? Maybe they were even right. Maybe she was mad. Maybe, just maybe, none of this had ever truly happened.

Freddie, who had obviously heard that she had ended her call entered the room a few moments later and found the crestfallen Clara crying.

"What happened?" he sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "Tell me."

"Maybe they are right. Maybe I am mad. You should just keep me in here forever and throw away the key," she sobbed.

The nurse reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to Clara.

"Here, dry your eyes and tell me what happened."

"I babysat those kids a while ago and they found out about the Doctor through pictures in history books. I called the boy and he doesn't remember a thing. Freddie, how could I have imagined all of that? I don't understand."

"Maybe you really haven't. The more I think about it, the more I see, the more I think someone really is playing a trick on you," Freddie said.

"Even if that is true, there is no way to prove that now."

"You said the Doctor's assistant had something to do with it, right? Maybe I should keep an eye on her, see what she's up to."

Clara, who had finally dried her eyes, stared at Freddie in disbelief. "Why would you do that? Why would you help me?"

Freddie took a deep breath. "I like you, Clara Oswald. Maybe more than I should."

Clara was taken aback by his response. Had he just confessed to her that he was fancying her? Her, the loony mental patient?

"I know I have an ulterior motive in helping you. Maybe I'm hoping that if you're right and you really aren't mad, that you'd consider going out with me. Wow, that sounds crazy, doesn't it? But I don't go out much and the only people I meet are the patients and you're the first that isn't as crazy as it seems and I'm talking to much, aren't I?"

Clara started to laugh. Freddie was sweet and under normal circumstances she might really have gone out with him. But as it was, she had just lost her boyfriend and was kept in an asylum, rightfully or not. Yet he was offering to help her and she had to grab every straw that she could find, right?

"No, you don't talk to much. I think it's sweet and I am very grateful for your help, but I need to figure this out before I can even think about things like dating, okay?" she replied sincerely.

"That's fine by me. So, this Missy. What do you know about her?"

Clara told him everything she knew about the Master and everything she had come to know about Missy. She was afraid that her story might change Freddie's mind because the more often she told it, the crazier it seemed to herself. But she was wrong. Freddie listened and nodded and there was no doubt in his eyes.

"With all the crazy things that happened with aliens, a spaceship crashing into Big Ben, another one shot down the following Christmas, and everything else that was on the news I am really wondering why people are still doubting such things exist," he finally said, "And the Master thing doesn't even sound _that_ crazy."

"Well, the Doctor always says that humans are trying to ignore it. They will as long as it's possible."

"I'm gonna keep an eye on the Doctor and Missy, see if I can figure something out," Freddie promised her, "After all, they showed up here on the day same as you. Maybe I should take a look at the records, see what they did before. If they really are Time Lords, as you said, there shouldn't be any records of Doctor Smith and his assistant Missy elsewhere."

"Only if she travelled back in time and changed them," Clara replied but hoped against it.

"We'll see. I'll have a look at it tomorrow."

"I don't know how to thank you."

"If I can prove you're sane, that will be thanks enough."


	8. Chapter 8

_Whoop whoop whoop! You guys know reviews make me happy, right? Thank you soooo much! And here's a chapter written for farbercastell so she has a nice hehehe chapter before she has to resume her studying. _

**Chapter 8**

The Doctor paced around his office, impatiently waiting for Clara Oswald to appear so he could resume their work when the door finally opened. Disappointed he realized it was Missy who was sticking her head inside the room.

"Do you have a moment?" she asked.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was a lot harsher than he had intended it to be, "Clara could be here any minute. I don't want her to see you."

Missy groaned and rolled her eyes. "Your precious Clara will survive, I am sure of that."

"She's not _my precious Clara_, okay? She is a patient I'm trying to protect."

"And for a moment I thought you were trying to protect me from her. I'm not the one that went crazy and attacked," she put her arms akimbo and made no effort to move out of his office.

"Please, Missy, you know what I mean. Now, could you please leave before she gets here? The session's going to uncomfortable enough for her."

Missy sighed. "Whatever you say, Doctor. Just be careful."

"About what?" he asked in confusion.

"To not let your feelings for this girl get in the way of her treatment."

"I don't have . . . argh," he groaned, "Out! Now!"

The Doctor continued walking around, still mad about Missy's false accusations. He knew that she could be jealous, but accuse him of feelings for a patient? Then again, she wasn't _that_ wrong, was she? It had been a month and he was no closer to understanding what was wrong with Clara and it was his own fault. Instead of pursuing the regular approach to a case like this, the Doctor had let her tell her story, some parts of it twice. Not because he thought it might be important, but because he loved to listen to her tell it. He had never considered himself a fan of science fiction or believed in aliens, but the way Clara told her tales made him fee like he was directly in her story. Like he was the Doctor that she admired so much. But now it had to end, because Missy was right. If he couldn't help her, nobody could.

Clara entered his office a few minutes later and sat down on the big leather sofa. She had quit looking around a while ago and now stared directly at him, her big brown eyes so full of love and admiration. The Doctor had to remind himself that it was exactly him she was looking at like that, but her fantasy Doctor.

"Do you want me to continue where we left off?" she asked him.

The Doctor took a deep breath and sat down in his chair.

"No, Clara, today I want to talk about something else."

"Oh? Okay. About what?"

"Danny Pink."

He could see Clara stiffen in her seat as soon as he had spoken his name.

"What do you want to know about him?" Clara asked when she had regained her posture. She still sounded insecure.

"How he made you feel, how his death made you feel," the Doctor elaborated.

"I loved him," was all Clara said for a while. The Doctor felt a twitch in his stomach. For reasons unknown those three words bothered him a great deal and he knew that they shouldn't. He had never met this man and he was dead, it shouldn't matter to him that his patient had loved this man, but it did.

"Are you okay?" Clara asked suddenly and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, why shouldn't I be?"

"Because I think you might be about to kill that pencil," Clara pointed at his hand and the Doctor only now realized he had clenched his fist around said pencil. He released it instantly.

"Sorry, I was concentrating. Danny Pink, you loved him and?" he asked quickly, eager to get the words out as fast as possible.

"We met a school and we had the most awkward first date ever. The Doctor was never really okay with the idea of me dating him, but I thought we would have children and grow old together."

"And how did you feel when he died?"

"Betrayed, mostly. It was like the universe had promised me this life with Danny. Children and grand-children and I had counted on that. And then it was gone in just one moment."

"You were angry?" the Doctor asked.

"Of course I was. Who wouldn't be angry?"

"And who did you blame for your loss?"

Clara remained silent for a moment and the Doctor watched her closely as she struggled to find an answer.

"Initially – everyone. Now I know that it wasn't really anyone's fault. It was an accident."

"And how do you feel about it today?"

"Sad."

"No guilt? No anger?"

Clara shook her head. "No, just sad."

**OOO**

When everyone had gone to bed, Freddie sneaked into the storage room where all the files about the employees were being kept. His initial instinct was that the Doctor's and Missy's files had to be sorted under the first letter of their last names, but no matter how hard he tried to remember their names, they just wouldn't come to mind. The Doctor was just the Doctor and Missy was just Missy. He had never heard anyone call them by any other name, which in itself was already odd.

His only chance now was that their files hadn't been sorted in already and were still on the shelf labelled "most recent". Freddie walked over to the shelf and found exactly three files. The Doctor, Missy and . . .

"Now, that is most inconvenient," Freddie heard a female voice say behind him. He turned around, the file still in his hands, and saw Missy standing in the door frame.

"I don't understand this," he uttered.

Missy shook her head and Freddie couldn't tell whether she was disappointed or annoyed.

**OOO**

Clara was lying in bed but she was still wide awake, awaiting news from Freddie. He had told her he would go and check the records. He wanted to be back immediately but that was almost an hour ago. Had he been caught? What would happen if they caught him reading the files on the employees? Nothing too bad hopefully.

Then finally there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Clara said eagerly and turned around to switch her bedside lamp back on.

"Hello Clara."

She turned around at the sound of that voice and wanted to scream. In front of her stood no other than Danny Pink. Clara jumped out of bed and stepped back.

"You can't be here," she uttered, "You're dead."

Danny chuckled. "Yes, I am dead."

"Then how come you're here?" Clara demanded to know.

He shrugged. "I came to right some wrongs. Clara, my death was no accident. You killed me."

"What are you talking about?" she could feel her eyes fill with tears, "How can you say such a thing?"

"Your lies killed me. If you hadn't lied to me, none of this would have happened. I'm dead because of you!" Danny raised his hand and Clara was afraid he would grab her throat any second now. She ducked and started to scream.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you so, so, so much for your many reviews. And the theories you have about this story, which I won't confirm or deny btw :D I love reading your theories, they make me laugh :D And here's a new chapter because I'm evil and want to confuse you more!  
><em>

**Chapter 9**

Clara never noticed the nurses storming her room and trying to talk to her. She was screaming, her eyes shut tightly so she didn't have to see Danny anymore. Only when hands grabbed her shoulders tightly she opened her eyes and saw a woman in a nurse outfit trying to talk to her.

"Speak to me, Clara," the woman told her.

Clara scanned the room and could see no trace of Danny, only three female nurses that had probably followed her screams.

"Are you okay?" the nurse asked her.

"Where is Freddie?" Clara asked. He would have come to her help had he been able to. She was so sure he would have come. What had happened to him? Did Missy catch him?

"Freddie?" the woman raised an eyebrow, "Who's Freddie?"

"Freddie. The nurse. He was always here."

"There is no nurse called Freddie," Clara watched in horror as the woman stared back at her in confusion and worry.

"Of course there is. He was always with me. He lead me to dinner and the meetings with the Doctor. I just spoke to him an hour ago," Clara explained frantically. Why didn't she know him? Could it be because she was new here? Clara had never seen her face before.

"No, Clara, that was me. I lead you to dinner and your meetings the past few weeks. I accompanied you to your room an hour ago," the nurse said and her look grew even more confused, "Don't you remember? It's me. Abigail."

Clara stared at the woman and suddenly felt as if she should indeed know her. Yes, of course. Abigail. Her nurse. She had been with her all along. But Freddie. . .

No, it wasn't true, Clara decided. She remembered having the exact same thoughts the first time she saw him, too. Clara hadn't seen him before either, but something told her she had and she wouldn't fall for that again. She had never seen Abigail before in her life.

"I want to speak to the Doctor," Clara demanded.

"But he's gone home already," Abigail explained to her carefully.

"I want to speak to him. Now."

**OOO**

When the Doctor received the call from the hospital, Missy had begged him not to go. It was late and it could wait until tomorrow but the Doctor wouldn't hear about it. He dressed in a hurry and drove straight back to work where he arrived half an hour later. The Doctor found Clara sitting on her bed with a nurse by her side.

"You can leave us now," he told Abigail.

She gave him that look that wanted to know whether he was sure and the Doctor just nodded before he closed the door behind her.

"Clara, are you alright?" he inquired and sat down on the bed next to her.

Before he could react, the young woman had broken out in tears and flung her arms around him.

"Uhm, Clara," he attempted to say, but decided to just let her embrace him and quietly sob against his chest. The Doctor had no idea what to do with his hands, so he started to awkwardly pat her head. Anything to distract him from noticing his heart suddenly beat very fast.

He couldn't tell exactly how long it lasted but eventually her sobs subsided.

"Clara, are you okay?" he asked again quietly.

Slowly she sat up, her eyes red from crying.

"You seemed fine this afternoon. What happened?"

"Can I go outside?" Clara asked to his surprise, "I need air."

"Normally that isn't allowed at this hour," the Doctor said, "But this room is a little stifling. Ah, let's go for a walk."

The Doctor led her through the corridors and past the security guard, assuring him that it was alright and he wouldn't need a guard to accompany them outside.

It had started to snow again while the Doctor had been inside and he watched Clara wrap her coat tightly around herself.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine. The air is nice," she replied.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

Clara took a deep breath before she began speaking. "I had a nightmare. About Danny. He came to my room and said he blamed me for his death. I got scared. I'm sorry I made you come all the way back here."

"It's alright, Clara. Anything for my favourite patient," he said and turned around to smile at her. The light coming from the building was just bright enough so he could see her smile back at him.

"Am I?" she asked.

"Are you what?"

"Am I your favourite patient?"

"Just don't tell anyone. The others might get jealous," the Doctor winked at her, "But you do know the dream was just your subconscious blaming yourself, right?"

Clara nodded.

"You're not responsible for Danny's death. It was an accident. You didn't push him in front of that car and you weren't the driver. And don't even think that the phone call might have something to do with it, okay?"

"I know," she replied, "I just got scared. The dream seemed very realistic."

They walked in silence along the paths for a while and the Doctor had to resist the urge to wrap his arm around the woman walking next to him. His instincts told him that she must be cold, or maybe he was telling himself so he could touch her.

"Doctor," Clara suddenly said, "Does the name Freddie ring a bell?"

The Doctor smiled. "The nurses told me everything when I got here."

"Oh," she uttered, "So you know about the nurse that apparently isn't really a nurse here."

"Yes."

"And now you really think I'm crazy."

The Doctor stopped in his tracks and Clara followed his example reluctantly. He searched his mind for the right words, for a right way to say this to his patient without ruining the progress they had made. If that could even be called progress.

"I don't know, Clara. I don't know what to make of you," he said earnestly, sounding more desperate than he had intended to, "Part of me thinks that yes, you are crazy but another part of me refuses to believe that for even a second and thinks there is a perfectly good explanation for what's happened to you."

When Clara said nothing in reply, he continued, "Maybe you should be treated by a different doctor. Maybe I can't help you."

"No, I want you," Clara burst out.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, I want to be treated by_ you_. I don't want a different doctor," she corrected herself quickly.

The Doctor started ruffling his hair, turning around in the spot. He didn't know what to do. Why him? Why this woman? Before he could stop himself, the Doctor turned back to Clara and reached for her faced with both his hands, pressing a quick kiss on her lips.


	10. Chapter 10

_Fabercastell – I updated in time. Now you're screwed :D  
>Thanks to everyone who read the last chapter and wrote a review! They really made my day, every single one of them. I am so glad you're enjoying the story and I promise the next chapter will be longer again.<br>_

**Chapter 10**

The Doctor pulled away almost instantly and took a step back.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have," he began to stammer, "I don't know what came over me."

His eyes were fixed on Clara, who looked just as confused as he felt, maybe more. She didn't say a word, and the Doctor wished that she would. To reassure him that it had been a stupid thing to do, that she didn't feel the same way.

"I'm really, really sorry," he told her again.

"I, uhm, it's okay," Clara finally replied, still looking at him in confusion, "No, actually, it's not."

She reached out to punch his shoulder.

"Ouch," the Doctor grabbed the spot she had hurt with his hand.

"You can't just walk around and randomly kiss people. You just don't do that. Especially not you," she said angrily.

"I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"

"Nothing, just, no more kissing. It's weird."  
>"Why? Because I'm twice your age?"<p>

"No, because just this morning we spoke about my dead boyfriend!"

There it was again. The twitching inside his stomach that he felt whenever she mentioned Danny. Only this time the Doctor recognized it for what it truly was: jealousy. He was jealous of Clara's dead boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," he uttered yet again.

"We should probably get back inside," Clara suggested, "It's cold and I'm tired. But thank you for coming. The fact that you came when I needed you means a great deal to me."

"You can always count on me, Clara. No matter what," the Doctor replied and stripped out of his coat, putting it over her shoulders.

He heard her utter a Thank You before they both started walked back inside.

**OOO**

Once Clara was back inside her room and alone, she took her own clothes off and slipped into the nightwear provided by the hospital. It wasn't very warm, so she wrapped the blanket tightly around herself. Only now Clara realized how much she missed bathtubs. The one in her own flat or big one in the TARDIS bathroom, although she hadn't used it since the Doctor's regeneration. She had never been sure he wouldn't just burst into the room when she was inside because he just had no sense of privacy.

Suddenly something occurred to Clara. The TARDIS. If the Doctor really was her Doctor, the TARDIS couldn't be too far away. Maybe it even was inside this building. No matter what Missy had done to him, she wouldn't destroy the TARDIS. She might have even used it for her plan, so the idea of the TARDIS being close by wasn't too far fetched. Even if she couldn't find it, maybe some other thing of use would fall into her hands.

Clara swore to herself she would go out and investigate on her own the following night after everyone had gone to sleep. Tonight she was too tired after everything that had happened. Freddie's disappearance or non-existance, Danny and the Doctor's kiss.

He had actually kissed her.

Clara just couldn't wrap her mind around that fact. She let her head fall onto the pillow and covered her eyes with her hands. Why on earth would he do such a thing? Clara knew that the Doctor had really cared about her, he had even told her so after her betrayal. But she just couldn't imagine that the man, if the Doctor could even be considered a man as a Time Lord, was even capable of romantic feelings. He was an alien, she was human. True, there were some anatomical similarities, but Clara wasn't even sure that Time Lords used the same ways of reproduction and she had never really bothered to ask him that.

But now the Doctor thought he was human. Maybe that changed some things for him. After all, he wasn't his usual rude self either. Or maybe he really was human now. The Doctor had once told her that Time Lords could alter their physiology and become human for some time. Perhaps that was what Missy had done to him. Clara realized there were only two ways to make sure: kill him and see if he regenerated or check if he had two hearts. Even though the second seemed to imply physical contact again, the first option seemed a bit too risky.


	11. Chapter 11

_I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I was busy replying to some writing prompts on Tumbler (also posted them on here if you're interested). Hope you enjoy the new chapter though and thank you very, very much for the reviews ;)_

**Chapter 11**

The Doctor closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. He felt as if everything around him was slowly spinning out of control, collapsing and there was nothing he could do to hold it together. It had started with Clara Oswald, the damned Clara Oswald. The patient he had allowed to get too close, the patient he had allowed to touch his heart. All those hours listening to her stories, enjoying the adoration she held for her Doctor, the Doctor that wasn't him no matter how hard he wanted to believe it. He had to do something about her. She was ill and in need of help and he didn't know how to help her.

"Honey?" Missy's voice interrupted his train of thoughts, "Is everything alright?"

It took him a moment to realize that he was at home and no longer in the hospital. He needed to stop thinking about Clara Oswald, at least for now.

"Yes," he lied. He had kissed his patient. Missy cocked her head and he felt like she knew all about it.

"It's late," she approached him, "Why don't you come to bed?"

Missy stepped closer and leaned against him, pressing his back to the front door. She slipped her fingers up his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him. When the Doctor closed his eyes he saw Clara. Kissing Clara. Devouring her with his mouth. Running his fingers through her hair. No, this had to stop. She was his patient, his mentally ill patient. He should have never kissed Clara in the first place.

"What's wrong?" Missy demanded to know when he had pulled away from her, "Don't you want me?"

The Doctor sighed. Yes, he wanted her and he also wanted Clara, but the strangest of feelings was that this wanting seemed like a completely new and strange emotion that he hadn't know before. Every time he tried sorting it out in his head it ceased to make sense.

"Come to bed, darling," she whispered and leaned in to kiss him again. This time the Doctor didn't fight the images of Clara flooding his mind as she dragged him into the bedroom. In fact, he revelled in them while Missy undressed him and he imagined kissing every inch of his patient's skin. Yet no matter how hard he tried, it didn't quite feel like making love to Clara.

**OOO**

"Don't be alarmed," the familiar voice said softly behind her back. Clara knew she would find Danny staring back into her face when she turned around. She didn't know how or why he kept coming back, he was dead and his spirit seemed to haunt her.

"Go away, Danny. You're not real," she uttered into her pillow, "Just go far, far away."

"I didn't come here to hurt you. And I'm sorry about earlier," Danny said and stepped closer, stopping right next to her bed, "Please, look at me."

He sounded sincere but Clara was still afraid to look. She had only caught a glimpse of him earlier and he had looked normal. No Cyberman suit, just Danny, like he was before the accident. Only she knew he was dead. He couldn't be here, no matter how hard she wished for it. She had seen so many things during her travels with the Doctor, but ghosts hadn't been one of them.

"What do you want?" Clara asked, "Why do you keep coming back? You should be dead."

She finally turned around to look. There he was, her boyfriend Danny. He looked completely normal. Weary, sad, but normal, like he had just finished a hard day at school and had come home to be with her. Clara wanted so much for him to be real just so she could wrap her arms around him one more time.

Danny took another step forward and sat down on her bed next to Clara, his eyes never leaving her.

"What do you think? I've missed you," he said.

"But. . . earlier. You blamed me for your death."

"I'm sorry. I was angry. This ghost thing is still new to me," he apologized and it sounded sincere.

Clara had so many questions on her mind and she wished she could ask the Doctor about them. She had never thought such a thing as ghosts existed.

"Are you really here?" Clara asked carefully.

In reply Danny reached out for her hand. Her first instinct was to pull it away, but he was too fast. When she felt the calming warmth of his skin she finally relaxed and a moment later threw her arms around him. It felt so good being close to him again, being able to touch him and talk to him and for a moment she completely forgot about where she was and what had brought her here. All Clara wanted was to be in his embrace and that it would never end. Tears were running down her cheeks and she didn't know whether she was crying out of joy or grief.

"Never leave me again. Do you hear me? Never!" she said in between sobs.

"I can't stay, Clara, and you know that. All of this, it's not real."

"What?" she asked in surprise and let go of Danny to look at him, "What makes you say that?"

"Clara, you and I both know that you're not crazy. We both know the Doctor is not a psychiatrist and this woman, the one from the graveyard, she's not his assistant," he said as if it should be obvious.

"Yeah, I know, but. . . this is real. She did something to him. She put me here."

"Is it? Is it real?" he asked back, raising an eyebrow.

His question made Clara frown. "Well, what else could it be?"

"You're dreaming, Clara," Danny said gently and took her hand in his again, "This is nothing but a nightmare. Ghosts don't exist in real life. You need to wake up, love."

_Love_. He had never called her that before. He wasn't really the type for nicknames.

"What do I do?" she inquired, determination slowly coming back to her voice.

"Well, how do you usually wake up from a nightmare?"

Clara hesitated.

"I die," she whispered after a long pause. Was he really proposing that she should kill herself?

Danny let go of her hand and reached inside his pocket. Only a few seconds later he pulled out a bottle of pills and handed them to Clara.

"Those are sleeping pills," she realized, looking at the bottle, "You stole them from the ward."

"It's completely painless. It will just feel like falling asleep. And when you wake up, everything is going to be alright," Danny told her in a calming voice.

"But what if this isn't a dream at all?" Clara wanted to know, trying not to sound too scared.

"What else could it be?"

"Yeah, what else," she whispered, "Even if it's not. At least I'll be with you again."


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you guys for the reviews! And because I love you all, here is another (unfortunately bit shorter) chapter!_

**Chapter 12**

The Doctor rushed back to work as soon as he got the call. Missy had begged and pleaded with him that he needed to get some sleep and that there was nothing he could do anyway but he hadn't even heard her. The only thing he knew for certain was that he needed to be with Clara right now.

"Where is she?!" he yelled at the guard at the entrance of the clinic.

The man looked a little taken aback by the Doctor's tone of voice, but replied hesitantly. "Who, sir?"

"Clara. My patient, Clara Oswald."

"Oh, her. She was taken to the intensive care unit about half an hour ago," the guard explained.

"How's she doing?"

The guard shrugged, looking at the Doctor apologetically because he couldn't give him the answer he wanted the hear. "Oh, I wouldn't know. You need to ask the hospital staff."

The Doctor dashed through the corridors until he finally reached the elevator. He pushed the button repeatedly, frantically.

"Come on, come on," he cursed. It was too slow. He looked around and decided to take the stairs instead, running up until he finally stopped in front of the intensive care unit and jumped on the first doctor he could see.

"Where is Clara Oswald?" he asked, louder than he had meant to and still out of breath.

"She's in room four, but she's still asleep," the young doctor answered after he had consulted his files.

For the first time the Doctor let out a sigh of relief. He knew the procedures and the talks doctors gave if someone was still in danger. This was a good sign.

"What happened?" the Doctor demanded to know, "Clara Oswald is my patient. I was just with her a few hours ago and she had seemed fine."

The man set his files aside and put on a stern look as if to judge the Doctor's abilities as a psychiatrist.

"She overdosed on Ambien and we had to pump her stomach. She is going to be alright, a nurse found her in time but she is still sleeping now. Could be a while before she wakes up. We will call you when she does."

"No, I'm staying right here," the Doctor was determined, "She shouldn't be alone when she wakes up."

"Do you want me to call her relatives?"

"No, I'll take care of that," he said, "Ambien. Where the hell did she get the Ambien from? She wasn't on any medication at all."

"The fact that she wasn't on other meds probably saved her life," the young doctor suddenly raised an eyebrow, "You are aware that people don't just accidentally take a bottle of sleeping pills, right?"

"Of course I know that," the Doctor yelled angrily and rubbed his face with his hands, "I don't know why she did it. And I don't know where she got the pills from."

"The pills were taken from the pharmacy. I checked it just before you came in. The bottle had the clinic's name on it and one was missing from our storage. Either it was Miss Oswald herself who stole them or some other people who then gave them to her."

"Thank you," the Doctor said in a calm voice but inside he was still agitated. He didn't think that Clara herself stole the pills. She had been with him in the evening and if it had happened earlier, the bottle of Ambien would have been missed. The Doctor also had no idea why she would try to commit suicide at all. He had been talking to her for months and she might have seemed delusional or even schizophrenic, but never suicidal.

"I'm going to see her now. Room four you said?"

The man nodded in reply.

The Doctor entered the room and found Clara lying still on a bed, apparently sleeping peacefully. The machines she was hooked up to hummed and there was the steady beep that showed a normal heartbeat. The Doctor took a chair and placed it next to her bed, careful not to wake her. He reached out and took the hand that wasn't attached to tubes and cables and gently pressed a kiss to it.

He wouldn't call her family, at least not yet, not if she didn't want him to. The Doctor was absolutely sure that there was a good reason for what happened, he didn't believe for a second that Clara had actually attempted to kill herself. He would have noticed it earlier if she had had any such plans.

**OOO**

"Doctor?" a low voice woke him up. He only now noticed that he must have fallen asleep with his head on Clara's bed. He looked up, his hand still clasping her, to find her awake. She gave him a light smile and the Doctor found himself smiling back in relief.

"My Clara, how are you?" he asked.

"My throat hurts," was all she said for a moment.

"That will go away soon. The doctors had to pump your stomach. You're in the infirmary of the clinic and in very good hands," the Doctor told her.

Clara's eyes moved to the hand that was holding hers. "What? Yours?"

The Doctor let out a small laugh. "Not exactly what I meant."

"You called me _my Clara_," she suddenly realized, her voice still raspy.

Yes, he had. And he had no idea why.

"Shh, try not to speak. Your throat will feel better sooner if you don't. We can talk then."

Clara nodded and the Doctor made an attempt to get up from his chair to let her sleep, but she grabbed his hand tightly.

"What, do you want me to stay? I will if you want me to."

She nodded again and the Doctor settled back into his chair. He would stay right here and hold her hand until she asked him to stop.


	13. Chapter 13

_And again a huuuuuge thank you for the reviews! I love you guys so much for this!  
>And another hint (again). The book mentioned in this chapter (as in previous ones) is a real book called "<em>**Love & Space Dust**_" by David Jones and I only recommend you buy it (also available for Kindle and his poems can be read on his Tumblr page _**story-dj**)._ I cannot explain how much I love his poems and I also have to thank the author for allowing me to mention his book in my FanFiction!_

**Chapter 13**

He was asked to leave when the doctors arrived for Clara's check-up a few hours later. The Doctor had sat there all of the time while she drifted in an our of sleep, never saying another word but smiling occasionally when she woke up and found him still sitting next to her. When the doctors appeared he told Clara he would be back in a few hours and she nodded.

When he stepped on the corridor the Doctor spotted a nurse flipping through a magazine.

"Excuse me, could you help me with something?" he asked.

The nurse looked up, apparently still bored even if spoken to.

"Yeah?"

The Doctor pulled his wallet from his jacket and handed the woman a couple of bills.

"Could you run to the gift shop at the entrance and buy the prettiest bouquet of flowers they have and make sure Clara Oswald in room four gets them? You can keep the change if you don't mention who sent them."

The nurse raised an eyebrow but still took the money. "Yeah, sure, why not."

**OOO**

To the Doctor's surprise Missy was waiting in his office when he entered it. She was leaning against his desk, arms crossed in front of her and she was looking very, very angry.

"Oh, hey Missy," he said nonchalantly, "How come you're here so early? It's not even 7 am yet."

"I don't know. Maybe I want to pay little Miss Oswald a visit, too. Maybe stay over night," Missy shrugged.

"How do you know?"

"Oh, please, I can ask people, too."

She pushed herself away from the table and approached him, her hands grabbing the collar of his shirt as she smiled mischievously.

"Maybe I really should pay her a visit. See what is it with her that fascinates you so much."

The Doctor pushed her hands away. "You don't go near her, do you hear me? Especially not now. Or do you want to be attacked again?"

"Ah, don't pretend you're worried about me. It's been _Clara, Clara, Clara_ for the past few weeks. I should be jealous," Missy hissed.

"You _are_ jealous," the Doctor grabbed his clinic ID and headed for the door.

**OOO**

As soon as the Doctor showed them his ID the staff gave him access to Clara's private room. He looked around and at first saw the usual room patients slept in. Single bed against the wall, a wardrobe and shelf for a few personal belongings, a table with three chairs and a barred window. But this room was special. It was Clara's. As his eyes swept over the books next to her bed and her pyjamas that hung over one of the chairs the Doctor had almost forgot what he had come here for in the first place.

He had come here looking for clues. He had never believed Clara had really intended to kill herself and the looks of her room seemed to confirm that. There was no letter. A girl like Clara wouldn't kill herself without leaving a note for her father and grandmother. She also probably wouldn't leave her things lying around. But he wasn't going to ask her, not now. This could wait until their next therapy session.

The Doctor grabbed the two books that were sitting next to her bed and headed out of her room.

**OOO**

The day seemed endless and the Doctor was sure he had dosed off during a session with one of his patients. But now he had finally finished all of his therapy sessions and the paperwork and was on his way to the infirmary to check on Clara. He knocked on the door and heard a silent answer on the other side.

"Hey Clara, how are you?" he asked when he found her sitting upright in bed.

She smiled as she spotted him and the Doctor closed the door behind him.

"The throat's a little better. They said I can go back to my room tomorrow morning," she explained.

"That sounds great. May I sit?" he asked and pulled up a chair when she said yes. He noticed the huge bouquet of flowers standing on her bedside table. The nurse had chosen well.

"Thanks for the flowers," Clara suddenly said.

He was about to argue that he didn't send them but upon seeing her knowing smile he decided against it. Clara would never buy it.

"How did you know?" he asked with a resigning sigh.

Clara shrugged. "Who else would send me flowers? And also, the nurse is an idiot. Only had to ask her three times if it was you."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Look, I brought you some of your books in case you were bored," the Doctor only just remembered and handed them to her, "And another thing."

"You want to ask me why I tried to kill myself," Clara interrupted him and lowered her gaze to the books.

"No, that can wait until your next session. I'm not here as your psychiatrist tonight."

What else was he then? The Doctor had to admit that he found it hard to label it. Luckily Clara didn't ask.

"Do you want me to call your family and tell them what happened?"

"Don't you have to?"

The Doctor gave a slight shrug in reply. "Normally, yes, but. . . I figured that could also wait until we established the details. I would call them if you want them to come here though."

Clara shook her head. "No, I don't want to trouble them. You're right. It can wait."

The Doctor watched her as her hand caressed one of the books he had brought her. It was titled "_Love & Space Dust_". Of course it was about space.

"Do you want me to read to you?" he suddenly found himself suggesting.

Clara started giggling. "You? Read to me?"

"Why not? Unless there is something else I could do for you."

He saw a flicker of an idea in Clara's eyes but it vanished very quickly.

"No, no, reading is fine."

"Liar. There is something. Come on, tell me."

"No, it's stupid and probably not allowed," Clara argued and busied her hands with the books she was holding.

"Just say it, Clara, I won't laugh and if it's something that will make you feel better, I'll try," the Doctor leaned closer to her and tried to meet her gaze.

When Clara finally looked back at him she said: "I miss pizza."

"Pizza?" he almost laughed despite his promise.

"Yeah, the food here isn't exactly the best in the universe and I'd really love some fresh, hot pizza," she said enthusiastically.

"Alright," the Doctor smiled at her, "I'll see what I can do. Now, reading."

He took the first book from her and opened a random page, realising now it was a book filled with poems. He wasn't really the type for poetry, but it was Clara's book and he had promised her some reading.

He cleared his throat.

"_Those eyes of yours_

_Could swallow stars,_

_Galaxies and universes._

_What hope did I ever have?_"

The Doctor broke into laughter.

"Well, yours definitely could. They're enormous."

"Oi," Clara reached out to give his arm a light slap, but she was laughing, too, "Watch your mouth, Doctor."

When the Doctor had calmed down, he opened another page and read:

"_Of all the people_

_I used to be,_

_I miss the one_

_That you loved,_

_The most._"

Something about this poem seemed to ring a bell inside his mind, which made no sense at all, yet Clara had fallen silent, too. Unexpectedly she took the book from him and put it down on her bedside table.

"Here, read Dorian Gray instead. Before you find some other body part of me that you can make fun of," she smiled but there was no joy in her eyes. Not this time.


	14. Chapter 14

_I know, I know, repeating myself again. THAAAAAANK YOOOOOU for the reviews. And Craftsyquidz? Are you okay? :D_

**Chapter 14**

Clara took a deep breath as she stood in front of her room, her books and flowers in her hands. She wasn't going to miss the infirmary exactly but going back to her room still felt strange. What if Danny, whoever or whatever he was, came back? She was fairly certain all of that had been Missy's doing and she had known full well that taking those pills would have killed her. But the doctors in the infirmary had saved her life, which was odd, cause she couldn't recall an infirmary being in this building. But it was there and she owed her life to the people who worked there.

But now Clara knew that she could trust no one. Not just Missy was to be distrusted, it was everyone, living or dead. That was the reason she hadn't wanted her dad and grandma here for they might be corrupted as well. Again her life was in the Doctor's hand and no matter what, she felt safe when he was around.

She was thinking about him on her way back to her room. Was she making progress with him? He had confessed she was his favourite patient but he still didn't believe a word she said. And he had kissed her. And read to her. Obviously she meant something to him, but what the thing was Clara couldn't say.

"Will you be alright?" the nurse who had accompanied her asked.

"Yes, thank you."

Clara also still had no idea what had happened to Freddie. When the nurse was gone, Clara opened her door. To find Missy inside.

"What are you doing here? Get out of my room," Clara yelled angrily at her. She set the flowers and books down on the table and crossed her arms.

Missy rolled her eyes. "Calm down, I just want to talk."

"Oh yeah? About what? The time you tried to kill me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Clara. When you decided to end it, I was at home. In bed. And I have a witness," she was boasting now.

Clara watched Missy as she looked around her room, touching her personal belongings here and there and strongly disliked it.

"You're not special, dear," Missy finally said, "You're just a patient in a mental institution. Never forget that."

"Then why are you trying so hard to unsettle me?" she asked with as much determination as she could muster.

Missy turned around to face Clara. "Because I don't like it when people are trying to steal things from me."

Clara took a step closer, the realisation bringing a smile to her lips. "Oh my God, you are jealous."

Missy shrugged nonchalantly. "At least I'm not the one locked in a room in a mental hospital."

"Yeah, but you should be," Clara was feeling brave. She had been suspecting Missy all along and never known what could be done against her. And here she was, presenting Clara with the ultimate weapon.

Missy snorted and walked past Clara, heading for the door.

"Mark my words, Clara. There is no happy ending waiting for you here," she said before she closed the door behind her.

Clara considered if she should tell Doctor about this encounter during their next session. He would be extremely mad and probably have a go at Missy, especially because he was trying to keep the two of them apart. But she decided against it. Clara was fairly certain that Missy would offer her even more sides to attack her from in time. Yet one thing was certain: Clara was so done playing the victim.

**OOO**

Clara was still up and reading although it was already 11 pm when she suddenly heard a knock on her door. She wondered who that could be and truly hoped it wasn't Missy with another attempt on her life.

"Come in," she said hesitantly and a moment later the Doctor appeared in her doorway.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I?" he asked carefully.

"Absolutely not, come on in," she put the book aside and a smile spread on her face. If Missy knew he was here again, she would freak out.

She noticed that he wasn't wearing his jacket but that he used it to cover something that he was carrying.

"Okay, now, it's not exactly fresh but I found a frozen pizza in the staff kitchen," the Doctor lifted his jacket and a tupper ware box filled with several slices of delicious looking pizza appeared, "And you're right. This isn't exactly allowed. So, don't tell anyone."

"Frozen pizza sounds perfect. As long as it's not still frozen," Clara raised an eyebrow.

"What? No. I put it in the oven, just like it said on the packing."

"I was joking, come here," Clara said happily and tapped the empty side of the bed next to her.

The Doctor didn't need another invitation. He let himself fall on the bed next to her and opened the box. The mouth-watering smell of the pizza filled Clara's nose and she carefully took the first slice.

"It's so much. I can't eat all of that. I've already had dinner," she said apologetically.

"Okay, let me help," the Doctor said and also reached into the box, taking the first bite of the pizza. "Mh, not bad."

Clara followed his example and began to moan as soon as she tasted it.

"Oh my God," she sighed, "This is the best thing I've eaten in months."

Hungrily she took another bite and found the Doctor smiling at her.

"What?" she asked, her mouth still full, "I want to see you go so long without decent food."

"Glad to make you happy," he chuckled.

"Thank you for this," Clara said earnestly, looking at him, "And for everything you've done for me."

"I wish I could do more. I'm afraid I'm failing you as a psychiatrist."

Clara had almost forgotten about it. The last times they had met he hadn't exactly behaved like her psychiatrist, but like her Doctor. An odd version of him, but more a friend than a psychiatrist.

"You're doing a good job," she said.

They ate the rest of the pizza in silence and Clara had stopped enjoying it, to be honest. All she wanted was her Doctor back, not as a good psychiatrist, but as the crazy alien friend she used to travel the stars with.

When all of the pizza was gone, the Doctor grabbed the box and put it aside. He leaned his back and head against the wall and sighed.

"I don't know what do to with you, Clara," he muttered, "I shouldn't be here at all right now and yet I can't leave."

"If you're worried that I'm going to try to kill myself again, don't. I'm fine," she tried to calm him down.

"That's not it," he turned around to look at her, "The thing is. . . I don't want to leave you."

"Why?" Clara breathed, unable to take her eyes off his.

"Forgive me," he said gently.

"For what?"

The Doctor bent down and only an instant later their lips touched again. This time Clara didn't push him away. Instead she invited him further in and opened her mouth, their tongues fighting playfully as she felt his hands gently stroking through her hair. Their kiss lasted for minutes until she needed to catch her breath.

"Clara, what are we doing here?" the Doctor asked desperately, his face still so close to hers and his hand still caught in her hair.

"I don't know," she admitted, the sadness and guilt audible in her voice. Her boyfriend had died three months ago and here she was enjoying a kiss with the man she had always considered her best friend. Clara wanted to cry.

The Doctor caught the first tear with his thumb and gently wiped it away before he kissed her again and Clara didn't know whether she wanted him to stop or go on.


	15. Chapter 15

_That's how it looks like when a FanFic write has a few days off. Chapter after chapter. . . enjoy it while it lasts :D And also thank you very very much for your reviews. They brighten my day!_

**Chapter 15**

Clara walked around her room nervously, impatiently waiting for a nurse to pick her up and accompany her to her therapy session with the Doctor. She dreaded seeing him again and yet she couldn't wait. The situation was just too messed up and Clara felt like they needed to talk about what they had done, but she felt afraid. And guilty.

They had kissed. Not like last time. This wasn't just a little peck, this was. . . different. Last night Clara had felt that the Doctor would have liked to go further than just that and it had scared her. He was the Doctor, even if he had forgotten, and the Doctor just didn't do this sort of thing, at least not to her knowledge. Not with her. And there was also the matter of Danny's death being so recent, she hadn't even mourned him properly because she had been busy being imprisoned in a mental institution and trying to find a way out.

For all of those reasons she had stopped him last night and it hadn't been easy. She had felt so comfortable and protected in his arms. Clara sighed. Even if that was the surest way to upset Missy, it was wrong and couldn't continue.

**OOO**

The Doctor took a couple of deep breaths. He needed to stay calm, Clara would arrive any second now for her therapy session and he was not prepared to look her in the eyes, not in the least.

All he had wanted last night was to bring her the pizza she had asked for and no more and then he had kissed her again. He buried his face in his hands and groaned. Why did he kiss her again? Why?

Clara was his patient, who had just lost her boyfriend and who was much younger than himself. And there was also Missy. The Doctor felt like a teenager who had never experienced love before and couldn't control his own emotions, it was maddening.

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thoughts and he quickly flattened his hair, trying to look professional for Clara. She entered a few seconds later, looking just as miserable and confused as he felt.

"Hey," she just said.

"Heeey," the Doctor replied awkwardly.

When silence fell over the room the Doctor got out of his office chair and walked towards Clara, pointing at the empty sofa.

"Do you. . . want to sit down?" he asked.

"No. Yes," Clara shook her head, "I don't know."

"I think we should both sit down."

"Probably, yes."

Both exhaled sharply. The Doctor couldn't take this anymore. It was so weird that he started laughing.

"Look at us," he said, gesturing wildly.

"Yeah, looking," Clara breathed, still appearing too nervous to say something of meaning.

"Last night was a stupid mistake. I can't apologize enough for that. And I'm going to find you a good psychiatrist who will take things from here, I promise," the Doctor spoke quickly, eager to get everything out before he changed his mind.

He didn't really want to lose Clara as a patient, but he saw no other way.

"I don't want anyone else. Why can't you do it?"

"Becaaaaause, look at me," the Doctor pointed at himself, "I'm hardly qualified to treat you. A psychiatrist has to keep his distance. I need to be objective and I'm not. I'm too involved."

"I won't let you abandon me," Clara said sternly, looking at him with determination.

"I'm not abandoning you, Clara," he grabbed both of her arms and looked directly into her eyes, "I'm still going to see you, I think. But your well-being is more important than our personal matters."

"You _think _you're still going to see me? But you're not sure?"

"No, I'm not," the Doctor admitted as he let go of her.

"Why? Doctor, you said I was your favourite patient."

The Doctor groaned and started tearing at his hair. He didn't know why he was feeling this way, he only knew he shouldn't.

"Because every time I see you I just want to kiss you," he replied angrily.

He watched Clara taking a step back but she didn't look afraid, she looked intrigued, curious and still very, very insecure. But above all she looked beautiful. He hadn't really taken notice of that before, he had only been interested in her story and her character and he had come to love both. Only now he realized that she was physically beautiful as well.

The Doctor approached her and cupped her face in both of his hands, smiling, admiring her big, brown eyes and her funny nose.

"My beautiful Clara," he whispered.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a slight smile.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to kiss you again."

Clara chuckled. "I'm glad you're asking permission this time," she shuffled a little closer to him.

"Do I have your permission?"

The Doctor waited impatiently for her to answer and when she finally nodded, he couldn't wait to press his lips to hers, almost devouring her with his own mouth. He would've felt like he was using her, hadn't it been for Clara who seemed to happily play along. The Doctor felt her hands on his back, hungrily digging into his shirt as she pressed her own body closer to his own. The heat of her touch was arousing and the Doctor realized he wanted so much more of her than just this.

"I want you, Clara," he hissed breathlessly between kisses, "By all the Gods in the universe, I want you."

"I know," Clara replied, also still catching her breath, "It's just . . . happening so fast."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked carefully.

"Oh, shut up!"

Clara reached for his hair and dragged him back down to her lips again. The Doctor abided gladly, burying his hands in her hair. Another 50 minutes until the session ended and he wondered if they could kiss away every single one of them.

All of a sudden Clara's hands slipped away from his back and to the front of his shirt, working at the buttons, yet her hips remained pressed against his own, his pants suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight. He caught her hands just as they were sliding up his chest and held them away from his body.

"Easy there," he said gently, "You're getting me all worked up."

"I thought you said you wanted me," Clara raised an eyebrow and seemed more confused than ever.

"That doesn't exactly make it right," the Doctor bent down and kissed her on the forehead, "I'm still your Doctor and you are my patient."

The way Clara looked at him just made him want to touch her lips again, but he had to resists. He had to be the reasonable one. Maybe just one more time. . .

They both instantly jumped away from each other as the door burst open. The Doctor tried very hard to cover his bare chest quickly, but couldn't prevent the interrupting nurse from noticing.

"Uhm. . .," the nurse spluttered and pointed to the corridor, her eyes fixed on the floor, "The patient in room 14."

"Yeah, what is it with him?" the Doctor asked a little too eagerly, which made the situation even more awkward.

"He is sort of having a mental breakdown. I think you should check on him," she still wasn't looking at him, "Do you want me to escort Miss Oswald back to her room?"

The Doctor looked at Clara who seemed just as embarrassed.

"No, I, uhm, I think she can be left on her own now. Clara?"

She needed a moment to answer but nodded after a few seconds. "Oh, yes, sure."

"Good. Uhm, bye!" the Doctor stammered and headed out of the room.


End file.
